


1

by yours_eternally



Series: Feb-u-whump 2021 [2]
Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Body Play, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29152461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: ‘Fucking with you?’ Joey asks. He’s not laughing now. But he doesn’t sound confused either. Jim looks up at him, anger bubbling sourly in his gut. So the motherfuckerdidknow exactly what he was doing.Jim's had a long week and he's not sure he can take much more of Joey's teasing.
Relationships: Joey Jordison/Jim Root
Series: Feb-u-whump 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137497
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20
Collections: febuwhump 2021, yours_eternally's Febuwhump 2021 Collection





	1

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is "I can't take this anymore".

Jim wasn’t sure when it had started exactly. Or even what _it_ was. He wasn’t sure if Joey was acting differently or if he was just losing his fucking mind. It was such small things; brushing past him on the way to the stage, nudging him in the showers, hugs that lasted a fraction of a second too long. Things so small he could never be sure. 

But that didn’t mean they weren’t getting to him. Getting under his skin. Making him hot and tense during the set, and restless as he tried to sleep in the bunks at night. When he closes his eyes all he can see is the milky curve of Joey’s throat, the brittle bones in his wrist. Maybe he just needed to get laid. 

And Jim usually has a pretty good check on himself, but he’s had a shit week. He feels like he’s going through a pack of stings a night and his back is twinging like he’s a fucking old man. And he’s tired. Bone-deep, soul-deep tired. The kind of tired he only ever gets on tour. He needs a fucking drink. 

But he’s currently sat, hair dripping, in the chilly shower block at the out-of-town buspark they’re overnighting at. He’s waiting — though he’s not calling it that — for Joey to get done with his shower so he can walk him back to the bus. He’s trying to ignore the tingling in his palms or the fact that his knee is jumping in time to his heartbeat that’s racing in his chest. 

He’s decided something needs to be said. He’d decided at the interview that afternoon. The second a giggling Joey had casually slid halfway into his lap when they were told to bunch up so the camera could get them all in. Jim had spent the entire interview with his nails digging hard into his thigh through the canvas of his coverall, trying to prevent himself from rubbing his dick against the warmth of Joey’s inner thigh. 

Jim is no longer finding it cute, and Joey needed to keep his shit to himself. And Jim’s going to tell him exactly that. Except every thought in his head drops out of it the moment Joey emerges from the showers, wreathed in steam and wearing nothing but a towel folded at his hip. All his hair is slicked back and looks completely black where it’s wet, his skin looks practically translucent. Jim can’t quite take his eyes off the pale arches of Joey’s bare feet. It takes Jim a moment to realise he’s staring. 

‘You didn’t need to wait, man,’ Joey says, trotting past him and dropping the towel without preamble as he starts to dress. Jim sees the damp, dark hair curling between his thighs before he drops his eyes to his hands. 

‘I wanted to talk,’ he forces his mouth to say. Joey laughs and Jim can feel his face flushing. 

‘What?’ he says, still chuckling, ‘—is this an intervention?’ 

‘No, I just—’ Jim says but he’s starting to get flustered by Joey’s amusement. But he makes himself say it, voice getting louder and sharper as he goes on. ‘You need to stop fucking with me, Joe. I can’t take it— and it’s not funny, okay?’ 

‘Fucking with you?’ Joey asks. He’s not laughing now. But he doesn’t sound confused either. Jim looks up at him, anger bubbling sourly in his gut. So the motherfucker _did_ know exactly what he was doing. Joey’s looking steadily back at him, in his loose plaid boxers, with hair slowly soaking through his too big t-shirt. Joey smirks at him.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude,’ he says, eyes on Jim’s, daring him. Jim’s on his feet. He stalks across the tiles until he’s in front of Joey. Joey can’t back up any, as there’s a slatted bench and row of hooks behind him. So Jim looms. Joey barely reaches his mid-chest anyway and Jim completely dressed, jeans and heavy boots, while Joey's barefoot. 

‘You can’t just—’ he starts but Joey’s put both hands on his chest, pushing.

‘What are you going to fucking do, huh?’ Joey says, cutting across him. His voice is sharper and higher than Jim’s ever heard it. It doesn’t occur to Jim until much later that’s what Joey sounded like afraid. 

Jim realises he’s got a hand tight around Joey’s wrists. His hand is so big in comparison, Jim feels like he might snap them if he squeezes too hard. He’s reeling. He doesn't know what he was planning on doing. Dragging Joey to the floor? Kissing him? Fucking him? Forcing his dick into that perfect, pink mouth, like he’s been imagining all week. 

But he can feel the grip biting into Joey’s bones, no doubt leaving bruises, and suddenly all the anger drains out of him. He lets go with a heavy sigh and steps back, reaching up to pull at his hair. Fuck, _fuck_. He _is_ losing his fucking mind. 

‘That’s what I thought,’ Joey says. He huffs out a laugh, stepping up to Jim, hands on his chest again but pulling this time. He goes up on his toes, pulling Jim down to fit their mouths together. He pushes a burning tongue into Jim’s mouth, licking the roof of his mouth before he pulls back. 

‘C’mon,’ he says, pushing, walking Jim back until his shoulders hit the tiles of the opposite walk. Then he drops a hand to the fly of Jim’s jeans, the other staying in the centre of Jim’s chest keeping him pinned. 

Jim holds his breath as he feels Joey’s chapped palm on his skin, brushing his hip then his cock before finally cupping around his balls. The hand tightens. Jim whines, pinned by the pain. Joey’s grip is not so tight it’s unbearable. But his eyes are on Jim’s face and his expression is merciless. 

‘Joe, _please_ , I—’ he says, but starts to pant as Joey squeezes him firmly. Jim grunts, feeling his cock throb and thicken. 

‘You can take it,’ Joey says quietly, ‘—keep breathing.’ Jim forces himself to pant out a couple of breaths while Joey softens his grip and then tightens it again. Jim keens, spine curving against the wall as he tries to lift his hips away from Joey’s grip. 

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Joey says softly. Jim opens his eyes, not having noticed closing them. Joey’s not looking at his face but down at his cock. It’s deep pink — the head purplish and glossy — and practically pulsing into time with his heartbeat. Jim whines at the sight too. Joey snorts, tightening his hand again. 

‘Touch it,’ he says, ‘c’mon.’ His voice is low, his breathing a little uneven now. Jim gasps and nods, fumbling his jeans and underwear down more and clumsily fitting a hand around his dick, knuckles brushing Joey’s. 

He starts to stroke himself. The slide is a little dry with only his pre-come and the sweat on his palm but it’s so fucking good. He’s so close from the aching pressure Joey’s putting on his balls, and Joey’s burning eyes on his skin. He whines, hips grinding desperately into his palm. 

‘ _Fuck_ , yeah, c’mon,’ Joey says, breathing high in his chest, eyes on Jim’s cock and his other hand fisted in Jim’s t-shirt. He’s not squeezing so hard now but just enough for Jim to feel the edge of ache that tells he’ll be sore tomorrow. He gasps, back arching as he finally feels the orgasm unfurling. 

He whines sharply as it wracks him. Electricity sparking down his spine, as his balls contract painfully and comes in a thick spurt over his fist and Joey’s forearm. He works himself through it, at last pulling his and Joey’s hands away from his suddenly tender cock. 

Joey’s watching him. His hair has soaked all the way through his t-shirt now and he hasn’t made a move to clean Jim’s come off his skin. Jim looks back at him, shocked and still dazed from the intensity of the orgasm. Joey’s face cracks into a smirk again. 

‘C’mon,’ he says, picking up his towel and handing it to Jim, ‘—we need to get back.’ Then he turns from him, fingers combing his hair and wiggling into his jeans like nothing had happened. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah.. slightly less mean today 😅
> 
> [yours-eternally-ao3](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yours-eternally-ao3) on tumblr


End file.
